


Winter Warmth

by PyroKlepto



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Richard/Gareth - Freeform, Rireth, Winter, just a story I wrote for a friend's Christmas gift, though there will be another installment sometime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyroKlepto/pseuds/PyroKlepto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of random stories featuring Gareth and Richard - in a modern AU of sorts - spending winter and generally just celebrating the holidays together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Perfect Winter Day

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a short story written for one of Muiromem's Christmas gifts. I have more ideas that I didn't manage to fit in, hence the 'collection'; I hope to add a few more onto it before too long. I may edit this first one a bit as well, we'll see. But yes - just a bunch of Christmassy Rireth fluff. Enjoy!

Richard adored everything about winter; a magical season, he called it. Since the first day Gareth had met him all the way up to now, not a year had passed where Richard wasn’t completely enthralled by the world throughout the coldest season of the year.

When they had been discussing buying a house - mainly because the apartment was far too small for all the stray animals Richard insisted upon rescuing - they had decided that a house in the country would be the best choice. Not only because of the large amounts of outdoor space, but also because the area they were house-hunting in happened to have spectacular winters, according to the real estate agent.

This was their first winter living here, and it did not disappoint. It didn’t snow until December - a rare happenstance where they lived; the first snowfall was usually in late October. But there had been frost sparkling across the trees and the grass like fairy dust every morning since winter officially began, and Richard had run outside each day to inhale the cold air and marvel at the delicate beauty.

Then it snowed.

“Gareth! Gare!” 

It was Richard’s voice, but at first, Gareth thought Nala - their pet husky (whom Richard had insisted on naming after one of his favourite fictional characters, despite the fact she was a dog and not a feline) - had leapt onto the bed and was trying to burrow under the blankets again. Then he opened his eyes and found he was wrong. Instead, Richard was perched on the bed, bouncing up and down with the brightest, dopiest grin on his face. 

Gareth groaned and rolled over to hide his face in the pillow. “Oh, c’mon, can’t it wait,” he mumbled. 

Apparently not, because Richard just bounced up and down some more, then clapped his hands. “Gare-bear. It snowed!” 

Apparently, sleeping in was not going to happen today.

Gareth sat up, rubbing grit from his eyes. “Did it now?” he asked, yawning. He finally got a clear look at Richard’s face - pink nose and cheeks, a few white snowflakes in his beard. 

“Yes.” Richard wrapped Gareth in a hug, nuzzling his neck and inhaling. “You’re all warm and cozy.”

“Well, I was,” Gareth replied, though not in an angry sort of way. “Did you put your coat on before traipsing off in the snow?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Richard sat back, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his chin in his hands. “Will you go out and help me build a snowman, Gare?” 

“Suppose so. After I get me coffee,” Gareth replied. “Are you going to let me up or keep me here in bed all day?”

Richard kissed Gareth’s neck before finally letting go of him and getting off the bed. “No, of course not. Then you couldn’t come outside with me and see the snow.” 

Gareth went through his morning routines, then made his way out to the kitchen, where he was met by Nala. She wagged her tail, tongue lolling out, and Gareth automatically reached down to scratch behind her ears. “Well, morning to you too.”

Richard was standing at the window in the kitchen, gazing out of the window in complete wonder, as though there were angels spreading their wings, rather than simple snowflakes falling.

“Are you going to eat?” Gareth asked, making his way over to the coffeemaker. 

“I can eat later,” Richard said, still not looking away from the window.

Gareth raised an eyebrow and reached for the frying pan. “Oh, no, you won’t. You’re gonna eat something before we go messing with the snow.”

Richard heaved a very put-out sigh. “Very well.” He watched as his breath clouded the window up, then reached out and started scrawling his name onto the glass with his finger. Once he was finished with that, he went into the other room, returning shortly afterward with his CD player. As Gareth fried some eggs, Richard played Christmas music.

When _White Christmas_ started playing, Richard tugged on Gareth’s arms. “Gare, dance with me.” 

Gareth swore under his breath when the sudden movement caused his hand to knock against the frying pan, burning him. “Stop that. You’re gonna make me burn the eggs. And my bloody hand.” He stepped to the side and turned the sink on, running ice cold water over his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Richard said, sounding subdued. When Gareth removed his hand from the water and dried it off, Richard took it in his own hand and pressed a soft, feather-light kiss to the burnt area. 

Gareth felt his previous irritation fade away. “No harm done. Just let me finish making breakfast, aye?”

Richard nodded, going and sitting down at the table and fiddling with his CD player. Gareth returned to the stove, picking up the salt and pepper. Once the eggs were done, he distributed them to two plates, which he then set on the stove so they would stay warm. Then he walked over to the table and started switching songs on the CD player.

“Gare, what are you doing? I was listening to the song about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” Richard said, frowning.

“Listen to it later.” Gareth let the CD play again, back on _White Christmas_. He took Richard’s hands and pulled him to his feet. “I told ya to let me finish making breakfast and I did. You wanna dance or don’t you?”

Richard’s eyes lit up and he grinned, clasping Gareth’s hand in his own. “Of course I do.”

It started out as a waltz, but somewhere along the line, Richard appeared to forget half the correct steps of that dance and ended up combining several different ballroom dances together. Gareth, not the most graceful, had a difficult time keeping up without stepping on his sweetheart’s feet. By the time the song ended, they ended up clinging to one another to keep from losing balance and falling over. Richard was laughing, and somehow Gareth couldnt help but join in too. Eventually, they untangled themselves and breakfast was finally set into motion.

 

Richard stretched out his arms and let himself freefall backwards - straight onto a clean canvas of bright white snow - and proceeded to make a snow angel. Gareth watched from a few feet away as Nala bounced in circles around him, snapping at snowflakes.

“Gareth! Come make snow angels with me!”

“No, I’ll pass,” Gareth replied, raising an eyebrow. “I’m no angel.”

Suddenly, Richard lunged forward - not even getting to a standing position - and grabbed Gareth’s arms, dragging him down. The plan had most likely been to get him to lie down in the snow beside Richard, but instead he ended up collapsed on top of Richard himself.

Richard giggled. “That tickles.” Then he coughed and added, “I also can’t breathe.”

“That’s what you get for dragging me down here, you prat,” Gareth replied, carefully moving so that he was no longer on top of Richard. Nala ambled over and licked his face. Gareth pushed her away, but not too roughly. “Now you stop that, you.” He stood up.

Richard also stood up. “Gareth, I’m cold.”

“Yeah, that happens when it snows,” Gareth remarked. “How about–” He cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath as Richard suddenly pushed his hands underneath Gareth’s jacket and shirt and pressed them against his stomach. “Bloody hell, Richard, that’s cold.”

“I know, but you’re warm,” Richard said chipperly.

Gareth stared at Richard - breath misting in front of him and mingling with Gareth’s own breath; pink face, bright eyes… he looked so happy.

So Gareth shook his head slightly at himself - _look at you, you smitten sap_ \- and didn’t push Richard away, letting him warm his hands against Gareth’s stomach. When he finally pulled his hands away, Gareth turned to continue walking. But before he moved too far away, he reached out and took Richard’s hand in his own.

The two of them continued to walk through the trees, with Richard humming a Christmas tune and Nala barking as she chased after squirrels. Before too long, Gareth spotted a tree up ahead; tall, with spiky-looking and glossy leaves, dotted with bright red berries. A holly tree, he noted silently.

Richard let go of his hand and ran ahead to stand in front of the tree, looking up at it with an excited sort of expression. Gareth came up beside him.

“I’m taking some of this home with me,” Richard said, reaching out and trying to snap a sprig of holly off the tree.

“Whatever you wanna do, but don’t hurt yourself. Those leaves are sharp,” Gareth warned.

“I’ll be careful,” Richard replied. He managed to acquire some of the holly and held it gingerly in one hand, all but beaming. Then he continued walking without another word. Gareth shook his head again with a bemused expression and followed close behind.

 

Gareth had just finished making a fresh batch of frosted cranberries - more or less cranberries with a thin coating of granulated sugar. He had made some not two days ago, but they were already gone.

Normally, he would blame the mysteries of missing food on Richard, but this time, the blame actually fell upon Gareth himself. Cranberries were one of his favourite types of berries, and with the sugar added, they were - unfortunately - just a mite addicting.

There was a loud thud from the other room, and Gareth quickly set his cooking supplies down, going to investigate the sound.

Richard was lying on the floor, blinking. A chair was overturned nearby, and it didn’t take much to realise that Richard had been standing on it.

“What are you doing?” Gareth asked. “You know better than to stand on chairs without someone to hold you steady.” He helped Richard to his feet only to be kissed straight on the lips. When Richard pulled back, Gareth just looked at him, uncertain of what to say.

Fortunately, Richard deemed an explanation necessary. He pointed at the ceiling, and Gareth looked up. The sprig of holly from earlier that day was taped to a strand of twine, which was tacked to the ceiling. “It means you’re supposed to kiss someone if you both happen to be standing underneath it at the same time.”

Gareth briefly considered telling Richard that holly did not symbolise the same things that mistletoe did - but he also knew that the only mistletoe available was plastic rubbish at the shops in town, and that real mistletoe was nowhere to be found.

So he said nothing. What could be the harm in allowing Richard to think holly was the same as mistletoe, after all?

With a low chuckle, Gareth moved in closer.“So it does.” He closed the distance between the two of them and pressed a kiss to Richard’s lips.

 

After a large supper - not that meals were anything less in their house - Gareth and Richard retreated to the living room to watch films. It was Richard’s turn to choose, and of course, he chose one of his absolute favourite Christmas films - _Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer_. As a matter of fact, he owned a plush version of Rudolph, and it was sitting beside him on the sofa.

Gareth, however, did not find the film as amusing. He tried to stay awake - he really did - but the warmth of Richard’s body beside him and the feeling of being full and safe was too much and he slowly drifted off.

He awoke some time later and at first didn’t know why, until he realised that the lights and television were off. The room was illuminated only by the soft glow of the multicoloured lights wrapped around the tree. Gareth glanced sideways and saw Richard still sitting beside him, gazing at the tree with a far-off look in his eyes.

Gareth stifled a yawn and moved a bit closer. “What’re you looking at?”

Richard didn’t look away from the tree. “It’s just beautiful. They look like tiny fairies, twinkling like that,” he replied, his voice dreamy and hardly more than a murmur.

“Aye. I suppose they do,” Gareth replied, though he was lookingat Richard and not the actual lights on the tree.

A comfortable silence fell upon them for an indiscernable amount of time. Gareth continued watching Richard gaze at the lights; but then Richard yawned, and Gareth reached out and draped his arm around his shoulders.

Richard responded easily, leaning into Gareth and nestling closer, resting his head on Gareth’s shoulder. “Mmh… Gare-bear?” he murmured.

“Aye?” Gareth responded, still only half-awake himself.

“D’you think fairies exist?”

Gareth made a quiet noise in the back of his throat. “It’s likely.”

“Good. I’d rather like to meet one someday…” Richard’s voice trailed off, and he moved even closer, wrapping his arms around Gareth. “Love you, Gare-bear.”

Gareth shifted just a bit so that he was more comfortable, and rested his head atop Richard’s. “Love you too.”

He soon fell asleep to the sound of Richard’s steady breathing and the star-like twinkling of fairy lights.


	2. The White Reindeer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Richard is an Actual Disney Prince and faithfully believes in miracles.

Gareth sat on the sofa, holding a mug of coffee and watching a spy movie on television. It was still snowing outside - he hoped it would stop soon, otherwise they would be snowed in, and while they had plenty of food and resources to last them for some time, he didn’t exactly relish the idea of being trapped in his own house.

For the moment, he was content to relax and watch his film. At least until Richard came back. As of right now, he was in the barn. It was heated well enough - considering it was where the stray animals Richard took care of took refuge - so he wasn’t too worried that Richard would catch cold. 

Just as an action scene started up on the television, the front door opened and Richard tramped in, Nala at his heels. "Gare!” 

Gareth sighed, not looking up from the television. “Yeah?”

“Gare, take a walk with me.” Richard plunked himself down on the sofa beside Gareth, tilting his head and watching him. 

Gareth gripped his coffee mug tighter so that it didn’t spill with the sudden movement of the sofa. He glanced sideways at the snowflakes and scrap of hay in Richard’s hair. “You were just outside.” 

“Yes, but I was playing with the animals,” Richard protested. “Come on, let’s go for a proper walk. It’s so pretty outside!” 

Gareth took a sip of his coffee. “Can’t it wait ‘til I’m finished here? I’m kinda watching something right now.” He nodded at the television.

Richard glanced at the screen, saw a few explosions, and looked away again, clearly not interested. He sighed, the energy and excitement visibly leaving him. “Fine.” Then, almost immediately, he perked up again. “I’m going to make hot chocolate.” 

“Good luck with that,” Gareth said as Richard hurried out of the room. Hot chocolate was one of the few things Richard could make without causing a total mess - beyond the cocoa powder all over the counter - so it was a good activity to keep him preoccupied.

After the film ended, however, Gareth realised he hadn’t heard a peep from Richard nearly the entire time. This could mean trouble, or it could mean that Richard was going through one of his ‘quiet phases’. Either way, it needed investigating, so Gareth set his empty coffee cup down and made his way to the kitchen.

Sure enough, cocoa powder was sprinkled over the counter and the floor. The hot chocolate was simmering on the stove, but Richard was nowhere to be found. 

The front door hadn’t been opened again, so he was probably somewhere in the house. Gareth made his way upstairs. “Richard?”

He finally found Richard - in their bedroom tangled in blankets on the floor. “What are you doing?”

“I was trying to make a blanket fortress but Nala knocked it down.” Richard’s voice was muffled. “But it’s cosy in here so I stayed.” 

“You can’t get out, can you,” Gareth stated levelly.

“Of course I can!” The pile of blankets shifted, and a hand poked out from underneath one of the edges. “I just… don’t want to.”

“The blankets are wrapped around you like a straitjacket.”

“So? I could still get up if I wanted to.” Richard sounded defensive. 

Gareth shook his head and knelt down, working at untangling the blankets that had somehow trapped Richard in a vice-like hold. “Bloody hell, you’ve got yourself in a mess. It’d almost be easier to cut you loose than try and undo all this.”

Richard gasped from under the blankets. “No! Do not cut me out of here with a knife.”

“I didn’t say I was going to.” Gareth finally managed to unwind the blankets enough that Richard could wriggle out of them. “There.”

Richard sat up and raked a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” Gareth stood and made his way back downstairs.

Richard followed closely behind. “Gare, can we take our walk now?”

Gareth resisted the urge to sigh. “Sure.” He glanced outside at the deep snow. “You get your coat first. And not that leather jacket of yours, I mean the proper, warm one.”

“But--”

“I don’t care if it’s a colour you hate now. You liked it when we bought it, and it’s too cold to go outside without it,” Gareth said, slipping into his dark brown coat. “Either you wear it or we don’t go out. I don’t want you catching ill.”

Richard pouted, but reached into the closet and withdrew a thick, moss-green coat, which he then put on before winding a soft yellow scarf around his neck. Then he clicked his tongue, patting his leg. “Nala?” 

The husky came trotting out of the living room a moment later, tongue lolling out. Richard leaned down and rubbed behind her ears, then kissed her muzzle and straightened up. He opened the front door and exited the house, Nala bounding ahead of him. Gareth followed close behind.

Birds fluttered from tree to tree, chirping and singing to one another. One of them alighted on the ground in front of Richard, and he came to an abrupt stop. Nala paused beside him, watching curiously.

Gareth stopped as well, knowing he would be very harshly reprimanded if he dared startle the bird into flying away. He watched as Richard slowly lowered into a crouch, and edged softly through the snow toward the creature, inching his hand out. He held birdseed in his palm - not a strange occurrance. He kept birdseed and a bag of walnuts in his pocket at all times, for occasions such as this.

After a few seconds of staring at Richard’s outstretched hand, the bird hopped forward and started pecking at the birdseed. It flew away after a moment or two, and Richard stood up, turning around. His eyes were aglow and he was beaming. “Did you see that, Gare?” 

“‘course I did,” Gareth replied. “It’s happened a few times. I don’t rightly know why you keep being surprised.”

Richard shrugged happily. “That one was a Black-Capped Chickadee,” he said. “You can always pick them out from a forest because of how distinct their call is. Also, they tend to stick around all year long instead of flying south.” 

He continued to ramble on about the habits and traits of the bird he had just fed, and Gareth listened willingly. He didn’t find birds too interesting, but he did enjoy hearing Richard become excited over something. 

“Let’s go out here!” Richard suddenly veered off the path into a grove of trees, running far ahead. 

“Oi, no!” Gareth hurried after him, boots crunching in the snow. “We’ve no idea what’s out that way. It can wait ‘til the snow’s melt--”

And that was when he heard Richard let out a startled yelp that cut off sharply.

“Richard?” There was no answer, and Gareth - followed closely by Nala - started barreling through the trees, shoving past undergrowth and ignoring the thin branches that struck him across the chest and face. He didn’t stop until he reached the top of a steep hill that led down into a meadow.

Richard lay at the bottom of the hill, a sprawl of long limbs and a tangled yellow scarf. Gareth’s heart stopped briefly, until he saw Richard moving. 

“Don’t move, I’m coming down to get ya!” Gareth called, starting to pick his way down the hill. Nala stayed at the top, head tilted.

A moment later, he heard Richard’s voice, very faint but just audible. “Gare… look…” 

Gareth looked up from the ground, arms outstretched to keep from slipping. At first, he saw Richard - sitting up now instead of splayed out on the ground. But then a slightly different shade of white moved among the snow, and suddenly a reindeer came into view. Not just any reindeer, but one with a coat only slightly darker than the world around them.

Richard sat up a little straighter, gazing at the creature in reverent awe. It stepped away from the tree it was standing beside, moving a bit closer to him.

The entire world seemed to go silent and still. The reindeer shook its head, snow falling from its antlers and fur. And it took another step toward Richard. And another. He remained sitting where he was, breath clouding in front of him as he stared in wonder.

The reindeer stopped just within reach, lowering its head and meeting Richard’s gaze. For several long moments, the two of them remained silent, watching one another. Then Richard reached out with a slightly trembling hand, moving very slowly, until his palm rested against the creature’s cheek.

It didn’t move, letting him touch it. As soon as he pulled back, it lowered its head a little more before backing away, making a soft whickering sound before turning and cantering away, snow kicked up by its hooves. It vanished into the trees at the other side of the meadow.

At first, everything remained still. But then Gareth let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. He began to move again, not stopping ‘til he reached the bottom of the hill. “Hey. Hey.” He knelt beside Richard and shook him. “You alright?” Without waiting for a response, he touched Richard’s arms and legs, pushed his hair back and felt his neck, making sure no bones had broken or cracked. Richard didn’t say anything, staring out to the other side of the meadow with a slightly dreamy expression on his face.

“Hey,” Gareth repeated, snapping his fingers to no avail. With a quiet sigh, he reached out and brushed his fingertips across Richard’s forehead, searching for any signs of a bruise or a bump. 

Finally, Richard tore his gaze away from the meadow and looked up at Gareth, an awed smile on his face. “Did you see that, Gare?” he whispered, eyes bright.

“Aye, ‘course I did,” Gareth retorted. “You could have been hurt, runnin’ off like that. What were you thinking, if you were thinking at all?” 

Richard didn’t respond, still in a bit of a daze. Gareth sighed again and took Richard’s arms, hauling him to his feet. “C’mon. Time to go home.”

“Oh, can’t we stay out a bit longer?” Richard asked, sounding breathless. He turned pleading eyes onto Gareth, cheeks and nose pink. 

“Look at your hands,” Gareth replied. He took Richard’s hands - tinged a very pale shade of purple - in his. “They’re going blue. You’re freezing.”

“Please, Gare?” Richard begged.

Gareth refused to waver. “We can come back out later once you’ve warmed up properly.” Without letting go of Richard’s hands, he started back toward the hill. When he reached the foot of it, he released only one hand. “Don’t let go of me, you hear?”

Richard nodded, and Gareth started the climb up again. It was much more difficult than going down, considering the steepness - but he managed to reach the top without slipping. Richard, however, lost his footing multiple times and was kept from falling down the hill again only by his grip on Gareth’s hand.

The two of them walked through the forest, returning to the main path. Gareth heard a clicking sound and glanced sideways. Richard kept shivering, his teeth chattering together every time he did. Without saying a word, Gareth shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around Richard, who immediately protested. 

“G-Gare, no, you need your coat--”

“You need it more,” Gareth interrupted. “Now shut up and keep walking. We’re almost home anyhow.”

Richard mumbled something incoherently under his breath and hunched his shoulders, all but disappearing inside the coat. 

Meanwhile, Gareth could already feel the air biting at him beneath his sweater, cold and sharp. He clenched his jaw, determined not to start shivering, and walked a little quicker; though he made certain not to leave Richard too far behind.

Finally, they had taken refuge inside the warmth of the house. Gareth immediately walked toward the fireplace, fumbling with cold hands in an attempt to place wood inside and light the fire. It took much longer than normal, because the moment his hands warmed enough that they weren’t numb, they felt as though pins and needles were being stuck in them.

The fire eventually started, and Gareth stood up, grimacing at the twinges of pain in his hands. He shook them, trying to speed the dethawing process up. Looking around, he realised he couldn’t see Richard. 

Just as he decided to go looking for Richard, Richard walked into the room without warning. He held two mugs, one in either hand, and a quilt was draped around his shoulders, dragging along the floor. He set the mugs down on the coffee table.

“Wha--” Gareth didn’t get to complete his question before Richard seized his arm and pulled him over to the sofa, pushing him down onto it. 

“You need to get warmed up.” Richard took the quilt - a red and gold one - and placed it over Gareth, tucking it in at his sides, and then plunked down beside him. He reached forward and took the mugs, handing one to Gareth. 

Gareth glanced at the drink. Hot chocolate with cinnamon and marshmallows. He gave Richard a sideways look. “You know I’m fine, right?”

“You were cold,” Richard reminded him. 

“Was not.”

“You gave me your coat, and then your hands went all bluish like mine. You were too.”

Gareth grunted. “Well, I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are, but you still need to stay warm.” Richard nodded decisively, lifting his own mug to his face and resting his chin on the edge, letting the tiny wisps of steam drift into his face.

Gareth shook his head, but didn’t protest any more. He shifted around a bit, untucking the quilt from his sides so that he had more of a range of motion. 

A comfortable quiet fell upon the room for a few minutes, save for the click of Nala’s claws as she trotted through the kitchen toward her food bowl. Then Richard spoke. “Gareth?”

“Mmh?” Gareth took a sip of his hot chocolate. 

“You saw that reindeer, right” 

“Aye.” Gareth looked over at Richard, brow furrowing just a little. “Bit confusing, that.”

Richard tilted his head, his own brow furrowing as well. “Why?”

Gareth scratched his jaw. “‘cause reindeer aren’t supposed to live around here. We’re too far south. And it was white.”

Richard wrinkled his nose., “What does ‘white’ have to do with anything?”

“Nothin’. It’s just that white reindeer are rare.” Gareth quirked an eyebrow. “You’re the animal expert, ain’t ya? You don’t know this?”

“I haven’t read much on reindeer,” Richard replied absentmindedly. He stared off into space for a moment before repeating, “Rare?”

“Aye.” Gareth took another drink of his hot chocolate.

“And it let me touch it,” Richard remarked quietly, sounding awed yet again. He scooted sideways so that his body was pressed against Gareth’s side. “It was a miracle.”

“What?” Gareth asked, trying not to sound too incredulous. 

“A miracle,” Richard murmured, taking a long drink of hot chocolate before setting the mug down on the coffee table and leaning against Gareth with a content little sigh. “You said there aren’t reindeer around here, and that white ones are rare, and it let me pet it. It was magic. A Christmas miracle.” His voice, though slightly drowsy, was insistent.

“It ain’t Christmas yet,” Gareth pointed out, though not in a harsh way.

“Close enough for miracles though,” Richard responded dreamily. 

Gareth glanced sideways and saw Richard gazing at the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree - or perhaps he was gazing past them at the snow outside. And Gareth said nothing more, deciding not to put a damper on a moment that Richard found so magical. 

Instead, he simply raised one arm and draped it around Richard’s shoulder, drawing him a little closer so that he was underneath the quilt as well. Richard all too happily nestled closer and rested his head on Gareth’s shoulder, still watching the lights - or the world outside; Gareth still couldn’t tell which. 

But there, relaxing on the sofa, warm and safe with Richard at his side, he didn’t think it really mattered. All that mattered was this precious moment.


End file.
